For Szabo. Roy. Seymour, Steve, & Rick
For three years
I’ve been an arthritic
Member of this gym
Working out
(If you could call it that)
To stay alive.
Others have been here
From the start,
Lured by a legendary
Strong man
Who grew wealthy
Without even trying
Because he knew!
Joe Gold is dead,
And dead with him
A vision
Devoured by greed.
World Gym’s World
Headquarters
A bit decayed.
Cracked upholstery,
Stressed machines,
But still an earnest
Honest place
Where we argued,
Grunted with the strain
Of muscular ambition,
Admired stunning women
And, perhaps,
Were noticed fondly in return.
All gone now.
I don’t believe this place
Ever broke even—
But Joe didn’t care
Because, unlike
The famous cynic
Who knows the price
Of everything,
And the value of nothing,
Joe knew
What to cherish.
(6/9/07)